


Of Human Bondage Projects

by unoriginal_liz



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unoriginal_liz/pseuds/unoriginal_liz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To get him to stop looking at her like a version of Casey, she has to be the anti-Casey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Human Bondage Projects

**Author's Note:**

> Written for youcallitwinter on live journal :)

Sally's not eighteen anymore, and that's fine with her.

At eighteen, she thought she was mature, but really, she was just trying maturity on for size, like a pair of shoes she wasn't quite sure was the right fit for her. At eighteen, she was dealing with, well, being eighteen - the stress of choosing the right college, and by extension the right career, moving away from home, figuring out her first serious relationship...

Honestly, she thinks she did a pretty great job on all fronts (she's always been focused and goal-oriented in a low-key kind of way), but there's no denying that everything's a lot easier now that she's had a chance to settle into adulthood, now that maturity wears like a comfortable pair of sneakers - practical and everyday - rather than that intimidating, special occasion pair of stilettos. She's had the chance to figure out what works, and she's more relaxed about everything.

Take her and Derek for example. Second time around, with a side order of adulthood, and being-a-couple is way easier.. Sure, they fight (mostly because Derek approaches maturity like someone dipping a toe into a bathful of too-hot water) - but it's not as fraught as before. And Sally's more confident - she knows they're strong enough to handle this stuff, and even Derek seems to clue in faster these days.

They're solid.

At least...that's what she thinks.

*****

It all starts (and continues...and ends) with one comment.

They've been fighting - the usual cohabitation stuff - but ironically, Derek delivers the worst blow post-apology.

It happens when they've moved on to the making-up portion of the argument. She loops her arms around his neck and says, "You're getting better at this," before she kisses him softly.

When she draws back, he shrugs a little smugly and says, "What can I say? I've got you _down_ by now."

"Oh really?" she asks, tilting her head, in a teasing challenge. It's maybe a prelude to demanding some concrete _physical proof_ of this statement - an idea that makes her toes curl.

"Yeah," he says. "See, it goes like - you get mad at me for some dumb reason, I don't get it...but then I run you through the Casey-filter, and I'm good to go."

THe smile feels stuck to her face. "The Casey-filter?" she repeats.

"You know, the whole 'Derek did/didn't do something and now my life is ruined, in spite of the fact that these two events,'" he holds out his hands, then moves them in opposite directions, "'don't really seem to be related at all!'"

She stares at him.

"I mean...I dial it down a couple of notches for you," he says, into the sudden silence.

*****

It's just a comment, a stupid thoughtless comment (a Derek special), but it bugs Sally.

It was cute when they started dating, and he was new to Sally and serious relationships. It kind of figured he'd need someone to guide him through the unfamiliar emotional landscape of coupledom. It was understandable.

 _Then_.

But now? Sure their feelings have stayed the same, and that's great - but...they shouldn't have the same relationship _now_ as they did when they were eighteen. Derek should know better by now.

He should know _her_.

*****

Two days later and there's a bunch of flowers on the kitchen table when she comes home.

"What are these for?" she asks, shrugging out of her coat.

"If _you_ don't know, then _I'm_ stumped," Derek says, but he capitulates when she crosses her arms and looks steadily at him. He blows out a breath and says, rapidly, "I don't think you're irrational or unreasonable, okay?"

She turns to scrutinize the flowers, and in a lower voice, Derek mutters, "Because nothing says 'totally balanced and rational' like two days of the silent treatment."

When she faces him again, he pastes a big smile on to his face. "So, we're good?" he says, though the question sounds like a formality, like he's jumped through the requisite hoops and now he's a little impatient and bored with the situation.

As gestures go, it's rough around the edges, but it's also...sweet. Or it _would_ be, if she didn't know that it probably wasn't Derek's idea.

"Why did you get me these?" she asks, and holds up a hand as soon as he opens his mouth. "The non-Casey-scripted version. Please."

He looks at her. "What?"

"I'd like another reason," she says, shrugging, holding him to it.

He keeps looking at her. The expression on his face is confusion, curled with some aggravation. But she meets his gaze evenly, and he throws his arm out to the side and says, "I don't know...I appreciate you?"

"You appreciate me," she repeats.

"Yeah," Derek says, and it's obvious from his tone that the pandering part of this argument is through, that he's frustrated to still be stuck at this point. "I appreciate you." He holds his hands out to the side, open palmed. "What more do you want?"

It's probably a rhetorical question, but...

She'll take not being compared to Casey. For a start.

*****

It wasn't like he was complimentary or anything when he said it - but still, it bothers her. It bothers her that he described her in terms of Casey. Like other women, including her, are just...variations on a theme.

Yes, she and Casey have things in common...but it's not like Casey has the monopoly on crying during moving makeover shows, or being organised, or having high expectations. She knows she's not Casey, or even a Casey-substitute. Sure there are similarities - but there are also differences, big ones, important ones.

So, she knows she's not Casey.

The problem is, maybe Derek doesn't.

*****

It's awkward, because they're still...Sally guesses fighting is the word - but it doesn't feel like a regular argument.

She just can't talk to him, because it's not like he's ever been calm and reasonable when it comes to Casey. She doesn't even know how she would explain it - and Derek would just shrug it off, downplay it in the usual Derek fashion.

She shouldn't _need_ to talk to him about this. This shouldn't even be an issue.

She can't say it - so she settles for showing him.

It starts off simply - she wears these spindly heeled, impractical shoes to work. Sally's a big believer in comfortable and functional, when it comes to work. Casey's slant is the same, though more earnest and drawn out - a lengthy diatribe against fashion-without-pain.

She parades into the kitchen, several inches taller, and the way he pauses and takes her in makes the hours ahead (when she has to slip off her shoes under her desk) worth it.

"What's the occasion?" he asks, frowning.

"Nothing," she says. "I just felt like dressing up today."

She's surefooted and perfectly balanced as she leaves. That's not like Casey either.

*****

Casey would talk about it. She wouldn't be able to keep it in - it would all come bursting out, whether she wanted it to or not.

Sally keeps it all inside. This is not an entirely new strategy - she's always been good at cold-shouldering. Of course, usually that's accompanied by a number of passive-aggressive remarks. Sally always means to rise above those - she knows they're petty and they don't exactly give her the moral high ground, but when it comes down to it, she's never able to stop herself.

This time, though, the passive aggressive digs don't come in word-form - this time, they're in her behaviour.

She applies the phrase 'What Would Casey Do?' to every situation in her own life...and then does the opposite. She wears things Casey would never wear, drops her yoga class in favour of going out for drinks after work, stops bugging Derek about laundry and clean dishes.

Of course, all of that is stuff that Sally wouldn't normally do either, but clearly Derek has a problem with subtle differences, so she has to go all out. To get him to stop looking at her like a version of Casey, she has to be the anti-Casey. 

There's a little twist of satisfaction with every frown, and every split second pause - every time Derek has to stop and think to interact with her...but it's cancelled out by the fact that, as discomfited as he is by her show-not-tell display, he still hasn't come close to grasping the motivation behind it.

*****

It shouldn't surprise her that Derek does what he always does when faced with a problem - but when she comes home to find Casey on the couch (mid argument with Derek), Sally is a little taken aback.

It's weird - she likes Casey, she's always liked Casey whole-heartedly...but now all that uncomplicated affection is mixed with newer, less palatable feelings. Like - not jealousy, exactly, or resentment, but some mixture of the two. Derek won't talk about his feelings (feelings _for_ her, _about_ her) with Sally herself, but he can unburden to Casey?

It's bewildering. Casey isn't perfect, Derek could fill a seven volume series with her flaws, so clearly _he_ doesn't think she's perfect...

...so how did she turn out to be his standard for womanhood?

*****

When Derek makes his excuses (if, "Okay, here's someone new for you to unleash your crazy on," while he gestures at Sally counts as an excuse), and heads for the kitchen, it's just her and Casey.

Casey immediately scootches over on the couch, and says, in a low, intense voice, "Okay, spill. What has he done this time?"

She looks down at Casey and manages to say, "What?" Her voice sounds distant in her own ears.

It's like she's a bonding project for them or something. Like a car they fix up together or something.

Casey looks at her with sympathetic eyes and says, and says, in that same, conspiratorial 'I know what you're going through' tone, "How bad is it, on a scale of one to," she considers, " - infinite jerkitude?"

Sally's face feels stiff, and something in her expression must catch Casey, who stops and says, frowning, "Is it really that - what did he do?"

It's not Casey's fault, so she forces herself to soften the sharp words with a smile and friendly tone. "Don't you think we're past the stage where I need you to pass notes to Derek for me?" Both her voice and the smile come out a little strained, in spite of her best intentions.

"Oh," Casey says, obviously thrown.

The real kicker is, she's not entirely sure that what she said is true - after all, it's not like Derek's getting the message on his own.

Casey regards her for a long moment, looking uncertain - and suddenly, Sally finds all her new, complicated Casey-feelings are covered by a thick, gluey layer of guilt. 

Finally, Casey says, as she tucks her hair behind her ear - an oddly tentative looking gesture - "You know - if you want to talk...I'm _your_ friend too."

She knows that. But _her_ relationship with Casey isn't the problem here.

Afterwards, when Casey's gone and she's wiping down the table, Sally says, "Do you think you should be bothering Casey with our problems so much? It's kind of an awkward position to put her in."

There's a hint there, if he wants one. Unfortunately, he's too busy feigning disbelief at the idea that Casey would ever be his go-to person for so-called problems, to pick up on it.

*****

You could argue she's being oversensitive, but - she's not the oversensitive type. Yes, she gets worked up over things...but only if they're important. And yes, it's one comment, but...it feels important.

It feels like, to Derek, she and Casey are a pair of spot the difference pictures. Sure there are minute disparities, but the fundamentals are the same. 

Her thoughts go around in circles. SHe's not like Casey, and she knows she's not like Casey...so, what Derek said isn't true. But...if _Derek_ believes it's true...

It's not that she thinks Derek and Casey are - are anything other than what they are (which isn't exactly clear). It's not that she thinks Derek is with her because he has suppressed feelings for Casey (though, to be honest, suppressed feelings are the only kind Derek has), but...if she reminds Derek so much of Casey, then why would he be with her unless...

It's like she's trying to figure out a puzzle and assert her self-identity at the same time.

She cuts her hair. Chin length, graduated bob. It's strange around her face, and her head feels light - but it also feels like a victory every time Derek looks at her, eyes narrowed to take her in, like maybe he's real seeing _her_ , and not the girl he expects to see.

"Don't you like it?" she asks.

"It's different," he says, noncommittal.

It's a step in the right direction, she thinks.

*****

"Wow," Louanne says, at work. "You're just...like, superstylish these days. If you keep it up, I'm going to get a complex."

"It'd be better if you got a pair of shoes that wasn't butt-ugly," Emilio says, before turning to Sally. "So...drinks tonight?"

Sally smiles. "I think I'm going to head home," she says. "Have an early night.

BUt when she opened the door, Casey's there.

"Hey!" she says, too brightly, and then blinks at Sally's hairstyle. "Wow! Your hair looks great!"

"Thanks," Sally says. A hot, red feeling wells up in her throat and almost chokes her, and her eyes flick to Derek. She had _asked_ him.

Derek shrugs and says, "It's Marti's birthday soon."

The red feels cools and contracts a little, and she can swallow again.

"Right," Casey says, "And we have so much to organize!"

Of course. It's not like she's the only bonding project Derek and Casey have. She tries to keep her head up, and the expression on her face pleasant.

Casey smiles at her, eyes too wide. "Want to help?"

Great. So, according to Derek's twisty moral code, letting Casey know what Sally said, then swearing her to secrecy...is apparently the same things as not telling her, and doing what Sally _asked_ him to.

It doesn't matter. The last thing she needs to do is participate in Casey type activities such as birthday-party planning, anyway.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can't," she says, schooling her face into regretfulness. "I'm going out for drinks with some friends from work."

****

Every time Derek strikes out on the issue...every time he throws Casey, or Casey-based psychology at her and it doesn't solve the problem, something inside her winds tighter and tighter... but there's also a grim kind of pleasure in it.

 _See how much I'm not like Casey,_ she feels like saying.

The thing is - he doesn't stop trying those tactics, and, looking at it objectively, it's kind of amazing how often Casey shows up in their living room. She's not trying to ascribe a darker meaning to it, but it's strange that the one person Derek claims he can't stand is the same person he ends up spending an enormous amount of time with.

The subject of Marti's birthday present comes up, and she keeps her face blandly interested and nods along as Derek tries to figure out whether they're going with a joint gift.

"Sounds great," she says, giving nothing away, and Derek slowly, almost reluctantly says, "Don't you...want to make sure I get the right now?"

"I'm sure I can trust you to pick out a gift for your little sister," she says.

*****

Even though it's what she's waiting for, she doesn't know how she's going to respond when he asks her - when he stops trying to feel her out, and stops trying to apply Casey-101 to the situation, and just honestly _asks_ her.

She thinks it's going to happen the morning of Marti's birthday party. Whenever the subject has come up, she's worked her noncommittal like a pro, and Derek doesn't know that she's bought her own present for Marti. She's never even implied one way or the other whether she's even going to the party.

She rinses her cereal bowl in the sink, and when she turns around, Derek is in front of her. He says, slowly, like the words are being forced out of him, "So...Marti's party..."

Her heart gives a funny little jump, because she knows he's going to ask her - he's going to risk looking dumb and ask her to go with him, because he _needs_ her.

Her hands clench at her sides in anticipation, and she says, "Yes?"

"Marti'd like it," he says. "If you were there."

Her fingers unclamp and hang numb and loose at her sides...and it strikes her that maybe he's _never_ going to ask.

*****

She goes anyway, because it's Marti, and she's got a soft spot for all the McDonald-Venturis. Even the jerk ones.

Marti compliments her hair and makes her own case for shocking pink highlights to Nora, who urges her to consider school rules and regrowth. Casey and Lizzie distribute the food and drink, and mop up spills. George has his hands full keeping an eye on Ryan, and making sure he doesn't cause any damage to Marti's cool cred or the decorations. In between passing out slices of cake, Casey manages to prod Derek into doing his part. It takes a long time - but then, everything with Derek and Casey takes a long time.

Normally Sally would be right there, helping out. But the rules of 'WWCD?' dictate that she should sit on the stairs instead. Edwin plops down next to her a couple of minutes later, and assures her, "Loving the hair, Sal."

Her lips twitch as she thanks him with mock-gravity.

Edwin scans the crowd and shakes his head. "Kids."

"Mmm," Sally says, swallowing her laughter.

"So - what's Derek in the doghouse for this time?" he suddenly asks.

"Excuse me?" she asks, taken aback. "What makes you think Derek and I are fighting?"

"Oh please, it's obvious." Edwin actually looks grown up, not like the awkward enthusiastic kid who used to take her bags and kiss her on the cheeks when she visited.

"Well it's also...kind of personal," she says.

He nods. "Okay. I'll just tell Derek he should apologise, if he asks."

"What makes you think Derek's the problem?" she asks. Weirdly, it's like she's the only one who has an issue with this Three's Company relationship. Derek certainly doesn't seem to have any concerns about it.

" _Sally_ ," Edwin says, laying a hand on her arm. "How could _you_ ever be the problem?"

She has to laugh. "Very smooth," she compliments. "Have you been practicing?"

"Only every night," he tells her.

When it's time to leave, she sits into the passenger side of the car. Derek turns the key in the ignition, and just before he shifts the car into gear, he says, "I don't know how I'm supposed to fix this, if you're not going to tell me what's wrong."

She looks out the window and waves at Marti and Ryan, still standing at the door.

She guesses this is as close as she's going to get to being asked, honestly asked, by Derek.

"What makes you think there's a problem?" she says. 

She's pretty sure Casey wouldn't be this petty, either.

*****

Sally and Louanne are sitting at a table, while Emilio is at the bar, talking to someone, when the guy in the corner sends over two drinks.

Her first instinct is to refuse, but all her WWCD training kicks in, and instead, she says, "Sure," and smiles over at the guy in the corner.

"Do you think we should?" Louanne asks doubtfully.

"It's just a drink," Sally says. Original Sally would have refused, even if the guy didn't have an aura of entitled jerk - but she wouldn't have fretted about it, like Casey would have. See/

Maybe not different _enough_...but still different.

"Well, yeah...but it's a drink with expectations attached, and I don't think he wants _me_ to meet those expectations, and you _can't_ meet those expectations, so we're having this drink under false pretences and it just...feels wrong."

She sounds so apologetic, and at this point Original Sally would be planning ways to boost her self-confidence, maybe going through a list of non-jerk guys to hook Louanne up with. Diametrically-Opposed-to-Casey Sally on the other hand, says, "Why can't I?"

"You have a boyfriend," Louanne says, looking at Sally like she's a stranger.

Sally shrugs. "Maybe that's the kind of girl I am." At least _this_ girl could never be confused with Casey McDonald.

Louanne blinks. "Oh," she says, and bites her lip. "Okay. I'm obviously a total square. And I'm probably cramping your style, so I'm just going to..."

"Louanne," Sally calls after her, but not loud enough. She drops her head into her hands. She doesn't move until she feels someone standing close to her, and then she looks up, ready to disappoint the guy from the corner. 

But it's Emilio who says, "Don't tell me you scared away our white rabbit," and drops onto Louanne's stool. He sets down his drink, then folds his arms and says, "Okay. Spill it, sweetpea."

"What?' she says.

"Not going to fly," he says. "Fabulously fashion forward as the last few weeks have been, something is clearly wrong. And now you're taking drinks from that guy? Spill."

She shakes her head, but it all comes out under Emilio's hard gaze.

When she finishes, there's a silence she can't stand, so to break it, she says, "I know it's - dumb, and I know it's not helping, but...I just...I want a problem that Casey can't fix."

When she looks at Emilio, he says, not unsympathetically, "I don't know if you need to shop around. Sounds to me like you've got one of those already."

She laughs a not-really laugh that makes her chin jerk, and says, "You know - I thought I had it all figured out."

"Welcome to adulthood," Emilio tells her. "It sucks, but at least the alcohol is good."

*****

She's Sally - she's always been Sally, and yes, there are times when she deludes herself wholesale (and maybe that's like Casey - but it's also entirely _Sally_ ), but she's an _adult_ , and as romantic as the idea of that one true relationship was when she was eighteen...in real life, she's always been a big believer in self-preservation. Even if it takes her a little while to get there.

She doesn't know if that makes her similar to Casey. She doesn't care, either.

So later that night, when she opens the door and Derek gets up from the couch, face set and hands balled at his sides, and says, "Is there someone else?"

...she says, "Yes."

Not for the first time, she wonders what it means that the 'someone else,' is _her_.


End file.
